


Then, Now, and In Between

by Anonysauce



Category: Vinesauce (Video Blogging RPF)
Genre: 100 word drabbles, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-09-06 11:58:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16832191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonysauce/pseuds/Anonysauce
Summary: A series of 100-word-exactly drabbles, in various points, from an alternate reality where Joel and Vinny met in real life before Joel ever joined Vinesauce. Loosely interconnected, not in chronological order, some early on in their relationship and some later. Use your imagination. :)





	1. foreword: a disclaimer and an apology

The fanfiction which you have consented to read is, as the name implies, a work of fiction. The characters within are wholly based on real people, but the stories are not meant to be reflective of reality. Because of the nature of this type of fanwork, I have placed a number of restrictions on who is able to view this.

If you are a logged in account holder on AO3, at least 18 years old, and someone who ardently enjoys this content, you are welcome here.

If you are none of the above, and someone is sharing this with you against your desires, please close the window and forget that you ever saw this. I am not in the business of making people read things they hate. I especially detest anyone who comes here with the intent to share it with the people depicted in this _work of fiction_ , because what the hell is wrong with you. It is behind this many closed doors for a reason.

If you are in fact one of the people, or friends or family of the people, depicted herein - I apologize, but I will remind you of the above warning. I am not writing this to disgust you, make you uncomfortable, or otherwise violate your privacy. If someone sent this to you in whole or in part, it was not with my consent.

I have made this account as anonymous as possible, and I do not wish for my identity to be questioned, asked for, or revealed. I do, however, want fans of Vinesauce who enjoy RPF to enjoy my story, and I hope that they utilize tact and respect in sharing and distributing this fanfiction.

Hateful comments will be deleted.

Please take care of yourself and do what you love.

Thank you.


	2. Cold

Maybe, Vinny thought, it was his Scandinavian upbringing that made a two AM smoke break on the balcony seem far more comfortable to Joel than to him. That threadbare hoodie couldn’t be warm, and the smouldering embers were hardly a source of heat either. Joel leaned further forward on the railing and exhaled a long trail of smoke that tapered into empty breath, staring into the inky blackness beyond.

“How aren’t you freezing?” Vinny managed from the sliding door, visibly shivering.

Joel laughed. “Man, to tell you the truth, I can’t feel my fingers.”

Huh. Well, there went that idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Illustrated by fiemaitr0 here.](https://fiemaitr0.tumblr.com/post/181920543359/how-arent-you-freezing-vinny-managed-from-the)


	3. Inspiration

Vinny paused, pen poised over the paper on the coffee table. The edge of his guitar slid an inch off his thigh, the low E string humming as his arm brushed it to right the instrument. A handful of song titles littered the paper at various angles, one scratched out where his pen had given up midway through the word.

“Dead bodies?” Vinny mumbled into his arm, folded on the side of the guitar.

It wasn't good enough. Joel managed to make roaring about rotting corpses sound badass and fun.

Something occurred to him. “Fuck it. Bloody sphincters it is.”


	4. Exhaustion

From the kitchen, the oven clock beamed a vibrant 4:38 AM. Beside him, Joel looked hardly able to keep his eyes open, and Vinny felt himself fading fast. A voice in his head chastised him for staying up to this ungodly hour, but the movie marathon had been completely worth it.

And more than that, the proximity felt. Good. In his nearly passed out state, Joel's head lolled onto Vinny's shoulder. Some noise of protest rumbled out of his chest as though he were arguing with his consciousness, eyes slipping closed.

Vinny just snaked an arm around his waist and smiled.


	5. Loneliness

Where had the time gone? A second visit, a third and a fourth, and a year and a half turned into more than he could count. Yet even two weeks felt like he’d blinked and suddenly they were at JFK sharing one last hug, one subtly delivered kiss. And he was right back in his empty car, no metal blaring from the speakers, no obnoxious wheezing laughter from the passenger side.

Vinny leaned back in his chair, gaze lingering on the deserted sofa before snapping back to stream. Chat scrolled at lightning pace, but one message stood out.

**Vargskelethor:** hey


	6. Affection

“And I was like, man, you don't. You don't even know what a good steak _looks_ like.”

Vinny huffed a short laugh out at that. “Bet he doesn't.”

Joel looked up at him, lying with his head in Vinny's lap, and pursed his lips. “Dunno why I bothered taking him out.”

“You're just nice to your dad, it's not a sin.” His fingers threaded through Joel's hair, an absent-minded touch. Joel exhaled deeply and wiggled to readjust, a deeply contented look on his face. “Yeah, maybe. Mm. Feels good.”

Vinny lightly dragged his nails along his scalp and smiled. “Good.”


	7. Submission

“Say it,” Vinny growled, twisting Joel’s arm further behind his back.

“No!” Joel squirmed under him and uttered a deep, guttural sound of distress. “I’m not gonna fuckin’ say it!”

“Fine.” He shifted his weight just enough to make it very uncomfortable for them both. “I’m staying like this until you say it.”

The one visible eye from where Joel had his head turned narrowed dangerously. “Fuck off.”

“Mm-mm.” Vinny held his ground even as Joel practically vibrated beneath him. “Say it.”

One long pause later, Joel finally gave in. “Augh, goddammit! You’re better at Mario Kart, now fuck off!”


	8. Without

On his phone, in the clock app, Vinny kept a second clock that tracked the time in northern Sweden. Joel had only left two days ago, but the apartment already felt lonely without his vibrant presence. It was about 6 AM there; Joel hadn’t streamed yet, likely still asleep.

Vinny nudged himself over to the other side of the bed, burrowed his face into the pillow, and took a soft breath of the scent still clinging to the pillowcase. If he closed his eyes he could almost imagine Joel next to him, warm and solid in the chill of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Illustrated by fiemaitr0 here.](https://fiemaitr0.tumblr.com/post/182339865414/title-i-lack-sleep-because-of-my-asshole)


	9. Anticipation

“When we go,” Joel started, then stopped.

Vinny made an inquiring noise against his back, hands clasped together at Joel's mid-stomach. He heard Joel suck his teeth in the way he did when he was thinking. “When we go?” he prompted after a few seconds.

“I dunno,” Joel muttered, by way of avoiding continuing his thought process. “Guess I'm just nervous.”

“We don't have to say anything.” Vinny squeezed him closer. “We can just be friends, there.”

The tension Joel had been holding in his shoulders melted slightly. “...It's not that I don't want--”

“I know,” Vinny said. “It's okay.”


	10. Content

Vinny had sometimes imagined the idea of waking up beside the person you loved. There hadn’t been any concrete images, but somehow, it wasn’t quite like this.

Joel’s face was half pushed into the pillow, muffled snores punctuating his breathing. His hair was a wild mess, one arm tucked under his chest, the other hanging off the side of the mattress. There was no Gaussian filter, no soft sunbeams or perfectly pleated sheets, but somehow it filled his chest with a deep, meaningful warmth.

There were just the two of them in his shitty little apartment, and it was perfect.


	11. Wrecked

Vinny wasn’t at all surprised to learn that Joel was just as loud in bed as he was on-stream. His ears were ringing when Joel collapsed against him, only the wall against his bed keeping them upright. Joel murmured little strings of _oh God_ s and breathy _fuuuck_ s into his shoulder, still somehow deafening to Vinny's senses.

“Jesus Christ.” His hand found purchase on Joel’s lower back, thighs shaking with the little aftershocks still coursing through him. “You. Are a noisy son of a fuck.”

Joel barely had the strength to do more than chuckle and lean heavily against him. “Sorry.”


	12. Tears

“So what I have here,” Vinny said, opening his SNES emulator, “is a Mario Paint corruption. Joel is going to paint with Bob Ross again.” He clicked to load the ROM. “Do I want to know why this is called ‘honking feathered shitbag’?”

“Uhh.” Joel selected dark blue. “Let’s find out?”

The second he dragged the cursor over the canvas, the game emitted the most bit-crunched, volume-boosted version of the composer’s goose-icon orchestra hit. Simultaneously the two of them screamed, evolving into pained, mirthful laughter.

“Jesus fucking hell!” Joel gasped, eyes watering, at the same time Vinny shouted, “Motherfucking _goose!”_


	13. Infatuation

It could have been the first or hundredth time that Vinny looked at him. They weren't doing anything in particular -- Vinny scrolling Twitter, Joel aggressing an enemy on his DS -- but something washed over him.

He put his phone down and gently took the DS from Joel's hands. “Hey--” was all Joel could say in protest before Vinny tipped his head towards his own. For a moment all he did was look at him, taking in the way Joel's face flushed under the scrutiny, and left the softest kiss on his lips.

God, he loved him so much.


	14. Birth

Another firework boomed across the Upper Bay, midnight rapidly approaching. Vinny took another swig of beer and leaned back in his seat. Sal and Mike were already several beers in, whooping along with the explosions. Tyler filmed them with an amused expression, Will joining them when he returned with more beers.

Beside him, Joel watched with the aura of someone afraid to admit he felt left out. Certain that the other four were too involved with their shenanigans to notice, Vinny let his free hand fall between their chairs and slipped his fingers between Joel’s.

“Happy New Year,” he whispered.


	15. Shame

Whenever they ended up like this, Vinny on his stomach between Joel's legs, his hands always found their way to the white-pink stripes on the insides of his thighs. He knew, vaguely, that Joel used to be a little heavier, the marks a pointed reminder of his past.

Above him, Joel exhaled shakily. “Don't… don't do that.”

Vinny raised his eyes to meet Joel's. “You know that it doesn't bother me, right?”

Joel's stomach tensed. “It's embarrassing.”

“Hey.” Vinny knelt up enough to cup his cheek. “They're a part of you, and I happen to like every part of you.”


	16. Love

“I did it!” Rev said, ear-to-ear grin audible. “She said yes!”

“Oh, dude, I’m so happy for you,” Vinny replied, inwardly delighted by how excited Rev sounded. “You and Tilde are perfect for each other.”

Rev’s mic made a noise Vinny interpreted as him rubbing his face. “I’m so lucky, God.” He paused. “So. What about you?”

“What _about_ me?”

“C’mon, Vin.” Rev laughed. “You’ve been with Joel how long?”

“I don’t--” Vinny stammered. Sure, it had been a while, but _marriage?_

“Oh, I know.” Smug, playful condescension filled his tone. “But when you finally do, I’m wedding you two.”


	17. Hate

“No. Fuck no.”

Vinny had barely gotten out quoting what Rev had said to him before incurring Joel’s Rev-specific wrath.

Joel gestured violently with both hands. “If that fucker thinks he's going to preside over anything related to me, he's wrong. He’s banned from speaking at my funeral. He’s banned from my chat, he’s banned from my stream, and he’s _definitely_ banned from my wedding.”

“Well if that’s how you feel about it.” Vinny snickered; he could feel a Revnarok Volume 2 coming on. “But hey, if you wanted to get married, you should’ve just said so.”

Joel went brilliantly scarlet.


	18. Depressed

Being sick fucking sucked. Vinny lay somewhere between unconscious and ugh, head partially propped on the arm of the sofa. The antibiotics made him violently nauseous, almost worse than the blinding sinus headache throbbing in his skull.

He gazed bleakly at his streaming setup, wishing he just felt better already. On the table, his phone buzzed. Uncoordinated fingers practically slapped it to the floor, squinting against the glare to read the message.

“ _you better not be beating yourself up, fucker,_ ” Joel’s message read. “ _we can stream together another time. DRINK A FUCKING SOUP._ ”

If only laughing didn’t hurt so bad.


	19. Longing

Maybe it was because they hadn't seen each other in so long that the moment Joel had dropped his backpack on the floor beside the sofa, Vinny was on him. He suppressed a playful laugh at the unceremonious “oof” he'd drawn out of him, practically throwing them both into the cushions.

He hardly gave Joel a chance to catch his breath before kissing him, a little rougher than he intended. When they parted and Joel was staring with bewilderment up at him, Vinny shrugged. “I missed you.”

“Yeah, no shit?” Joel hooked his wrists behind his neck. “Missed you too.”


	20. Coping

There was something visceral, yet strangely domestic, about watching Joel manage his diabetes. At first, Vinny didn’t watch -- partially out of respect, and partially because needles made him uneasy. He could practically feel it in his own fingertips, when Joel initially checked his blood sugar, but the pen…

It was kind of cool. A couple clicks loaded up the proper amount of insulin, and Joel merely pushed it into his stomach for a good ten seconds. He didn’t exactly look happy about it, but Vinny held a deep respect for the fact that he could do it at all.


	21. Disgust

“So this is the asshole soup fish, huh?”

“Yup.” Joel hid a shit-eating grin behind his fist. “Surströmming.”

Vinny grimaced and regarded the can, boldly decorated in Satanic runes otherwise known as Swedish. “I'm going to regret this more than raw Vegemite, aren't I?”

“Oh, no,” Joel said, obviously sarcastic. “It's delicious, trust me.”

“I absolutely don't trust you,” Vinny retorted, setting and cranking the can opener once. In seconds, the sheer odor socked him in the face. “Eugh, God, that is. Fermented beaver taint.”

The dam broke, and Joel collapsed into breathless giggles right there on the table.


	22. Feel

Joel's hair was a unique beast. When they first met, it had been hardly chin-length, but over the years he'd grown it out to his upper back. The Booru frequently depicted it as an impressive, luscious mane; in truth, it tended on the stringier side, often slightly oil-slick where Joel habitually neglected it.

Somehow, though, Vinny didn't mind. Maybe it was gross -- and maybe Joel needed a lecture on proper conditioning -- but that didn't stop him from running his fingers through it whenever they relaxed together.

The way Joel's eyelids fluttered when he did was worth it, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Illustrated by fiemaitr0 here.](https://fiemaitr0.tumblr.com/post/181882104424/based-off-this-fanfic-tidbit-called-feel-by)


	23. Triumph

“Did we do it?” Vinny asked the second he picked up Scott’s call.

Scott laughed, expecting that. “The totals are still coming in, hold on.”

“Aww, man.” Joel wiped his palms on his jeans. “I can’t watch.”

Scott _hmm_ ed softly and went silent a moment. “And… oh. We're done. We made the goal!”

Vinny threw off his headset and whooped, Joel slamming into his side with a hug. He drowned Joel’s exclamations in an impromptu kiss, nearly hoisting him out of his seat.

From his headphones, he heard the faintest, “Are you two making out? …You two are making out.”


	24. Enthusiasm

“So where do you wanna eat?” Vinny slipped an arm into his hoodie and looked expectantly at Joel.

Joel’s eyes lit up. “Taco Bell. You have to take me to Taco Bell, I’ve been to America five times and still haven't had it yet.”

“...We have all this fine, homemade Italian cuisine in walking distance,” Vinny said, unable to keep the incredulity out of his voice, “and you want _Taco Bell?”_

“I have to know.” Joel looked at him imploringly. “Please?”

“The nearest Taco Bell is across the bay.” When Joel didn't relent, Vinny sighed. “You're lucky I love you.”


	25. Delight

Joel slammed the box onto the flimsy plastic table. “You didn’t fuckin’ tell me that they had taco shells made of goddamn Doritos!”

Vinny groaned, rubbing his face. “You got the twelve-pack.”

“Fuck yeah I did!” Joel tore the box open and dumped out all twelve hastily-wrapped tacos. “I got steak for the like, normal tacos,” he explained, “but I got ground beef for the Dorito ones.”

“You know it’s mostly sand.”

Joel nodded enthusiastically. “If I’m gonna die,” he said, a cup of strawberry Starburst Icee in one hand, his insulin pen in the other, “I’m gonna die happy.”


	26. Worship

It was no secret that both of them had grown up in deeply Catholic households. Somehow that thread managed to connect them; they’d both attended private religious school, had families inexorably tied to faith, and had eventually given up on the orthodoxy they’d been marinated in their whole lives. There was an ocean and a cultural divide between them, but it remained a point the two could commiserate on.

It helped, Vinny had to admit, that when Joel went with him and his family into the church for Christmas Mass, he had someone to whisper “This is horse cocks” to.


	27. Holding

Scenery rushed by beyond the windowpane, blurs of foliage and people’s backyards interspersed with pitch-black tunnels. Around the two of them the train rattled in that familiar-yet-ominous way, exacerbated by the fact that they were the only people in the railcar.

Joel shifted in his seat, Vinny certain the hard blue plastic wasn’t doing either them any favors. His focus turned to the stretch of cloudless sky above striped with telephone wires, hand absently drifting off his thigh and finding Joel’s.

A moment later, before he’d even realized he’d done it, he felt Joel’s colder fingers curl around his own.


	28. Jolly

“You know what's kind of fucked up?” Joel asked, apropos of nothing.

“Huh?” Vinny looked up from trying to set up his Wii for another shovelware Christmas stream.

“You know how, like… Santa can see every fuckin’ kid in the world being bad or good? But… how come… he couldn't see the other reindeer being massive dicks to Rudolph?”

Vinny's brows knit in the way only Joel could make them with his stoner-level woke thoughts. Totally random, but they had a point deep down. “Well. I mean.”

“Fake-merry motherfucker was probably in on it,” Joel said bitterly. “Fuck you, Santa.”


	29. Bliss

It was way too early. Vinny almost didn’t want to open his eyes, didn’t want to confirm that it was as early as he thought it was. Winter had the weather in its icy grip, the air in his bedroom echoing that chill.

He burrowed deeper into his comforter and snuggled closer to Joel, amused by the sleepy grumble he got in return. “Did I wake you?” he murmured, nosing his shoulder and leaving a small kiss on his neck.

For all his effort, Joel rolled over and nearly headbutted his chin trying to curl up against his chest. “F’ckawf.”


	30. Agitation

As soon as he stepped out of the store, Vinny felt his stomach drop. His headlights were on.

“Oh, fuck.”

He raced to the car and jumped straight into the driver's seat, fumbled with his keys, jamming them in and turning. All he got was the telltale click of the engine failing to turn over.

“No, no, no…” His mind raced, chest growing tight. He needed to call Mike, get a jump, but his hands weren't fucking working and--

“Hey.” He felt a warm, solid hand grasp his shoulder, Joel in the passenger seat gazing hard at him. “Breathe, Vinny.”


	31. Lust

There had been zero preamble, no lead up to the two of them on Vinny's bed. He'd somehow lost his shirt in the process and couldn't pull back from biting at Joel's neck long enough to get his shirt off too. He felt Joel's hands fumbling with his fly, his own finding his wrists to guide him.

When he finally pulled back, Joel wrestled his shirt off before planting his hands firmly on Vinny's hips, eyes pleasure-glazed and wanting. Vinny shivered, swallowed thickly, let his head tip back and eyes close.

That image would stay burned into his retinas forever.


	32. Tranquil

“This is how you do it, huh?” Joel scraped the wet asphalt with his boot, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets. Around them the air misted with a light drizzle, heady with that ozone scent that heralded an incoming storm.

“Nothing really gets my mind going like rain,” Vinny said quietly, tracking the graying clouds sweeping across the sky. Absent tendrils of lyrics filtered through his mind over the wind stirring the treetops.

The crunch of Joel's footsteps grew louder, approaching him on the side, his arm weaving into Vinny's and gently holding the fabric. “Thanks. For sharing, I mean.”


	33. Colorful

“Oh my God? What is this. What _is_ this?”

Out of the pile of discounted, chintzy Halloween merchandise on the table, Joel produced the single most hideous sugar skull knockoff Vinny had ever seen. It was plastered unevenly with fuchsia, pink, and purple glitter, sporting a sloppy, painted-on grin.

Vinny repressed a snort that almost hurt, only for Joel to lift the skull to his face. “Bedazzle me, He-Man!” he squeaked out in his Skeletor impression. “Coat me in all the glitter! I'm fabulous!”

“Holy shit?” Vinny managed between gasps of breath. “Buy that, I'm keeping it on my desk.”


	34. Fulfilled

Vinny let his fingers dance up and down the frets, taking a breath of the warm, smoky haze in the bar. Everyone harmonized beautifully, Mike's beat on the drums perfectly in time with the metronome in his head.

Across the bar, beyond the glare of the lights illuminating the small stage, there could've been five people or a hundred. Any anxiety he felt about it evaporated when his eyes scanned the room and fell on one little table in the far right corner.

Joel raised his glass and nodded, giving him a half-cocked grin.

Right then, everything just. Felt right.


	35. Tender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terribly sorry for the delay in updating. At the time I started writing these I had a lot of free time, and figured 100 words would be short enough to hammer out and get the creative juices flowing. The past month has been fraught with figuring out my future living situation, as well as being horrendously sick.
> 
> The good news is, I rewrote Thankful and will be releasing it in this batch of updates. I'm delighted you're all enjoying this fic. :)

“Let me see it.”

Vinny resisted the urge to turn his head further, reluctantly letting Joel gently take his chin in one hand. In his peripheral he could see Joel's frown deepen. “That bad?”

“Yeah.” Cool fingertips traced his cheekbone, the sensation of his own pulse throbbing under the skin. “You really ate it on those steps.”

“What can I say,” Vinny muttered, self-deprecation bleeding into his words. “I'm a disaster sometimes.”

“Hey, shit happens.” Joel pressed a washcloth bundled full of ice to the side of his face. Vinny hissed, involuntary, but leaned into Joel's hand. “Least you're okay.”


	36. You

Their conversation dwindled into companionable silence between them in a Discord video call. Vinny had one eye on the clock, counting down to stream start.

“Hey, uh. Vinny?”

Joel's hesitance broke him out of his thoughts. “What's up?”

On screen, Joel raked fingers through his hair, not looking at the camera. “I'm. Uhh, shit at saying this, but I realized I don't say it like ever?” His gaze wavered before looking back up. “But. I look at you sometimes when we do this, and you look so fuckin’ tired. So. Listen. I… I love you, okay? Take care of yourself.”


	37. I

Vinny shook the water out of his hair, toweling it in rough motions then scrubbing the dampness out of his beard. One hand smeared moisture off the bathroom mirror.

His reflection looked. Well, tired. He felt somehow like he hadn't slept in a week, and it was starting to show. _You always look so fuckin’ tired,_ Joel's words echoed in his mind. _I love you, okay? Take care of yourself._

The words lit a small but earnest fire in the pit of his stomach, and for a second he didn't feel quite as tired.

Maybe he did need a break.


	38. Defeated

“Oh my fucking God, how? How?!” Joel screeched into his hands, the Smash announcer declaring Villager the winner. “I had that!”

Vinny resisted a triumphant smirk and shrugged. “Not my fault you literally walked into that Bob-omb.”

“Fuck this. Spicy 2000 was a mistake.” Joel grappled with his controller. “Three out of five, c'mon.”

“This is our seventh match.” Vinny nudged him, Joel giving him a playfully hard shove in return.

“I don't care, fuck you.”

“Joel, please, this is a Christian stream.”

“Oh, well.” Joel put on the Voice. “In that case, kindly eviscerate yourself with a tree! Wehehe!”


	39. Thankful

Joel's breathing had gone deep and even; Vinny was sure he had fallen asleep, but lying beside him staring at his back, he couldn't help wanting to ask.

“Joel… if you're still awake, roll over.”

Joel hummed, but acquiesced, shifting around to face him, one palm face-up on the pillow.

Vinny eyed it for a moment before slipping his hand on top of it. “Just. Glad you're here.” He didn't want to admit how lonely he'd been feeling lately, but...

There was a pause before Joel wormed closer and wrapped his free arm around him, pulling him into his presence.


End file.
